


Mutually Inclusive

by thirty2flavors



Category: Borderlands (Video Games), Tales from the Borderlands - Fandom
Genre: Comedy, Established Relationship, F/M, Fluff, Post-Canon, Post-Game(s), Scary Movies, the mildest of hurt/comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-01
Updated: 2017-11-01
Packaged: 2019-01-27 16:30:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,481
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12586024
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thirty2flavors/pseuds/thirty2flavors
Summary: “Hold on. Babe. Are you scared?”“What?” Rhys blew a long breath between his lips and shook his head so Sasha would know precisely how ludicrous that suggestion was. “Ha ha, uh, yeah, scared, maybe, of how many IQ points I’ll lose watching this terrible movie.”





	Mutually Inclusive

**Author's Note:**

> Written in a rush while waiting for trick-or-treaters and probably/definitely a little inspired by @sketchupnfries' [Inktober Day 9 - Scary Movie](https://sketchupnfries.tumblr.com/post/166222863669/day09-scary-movies-wanted-to-draw-the-tftbl) sketch, which got me thinking about Sasha and how into scary movies she'd be.
> 
> Happy Halloween!

“No.”

“Come on, it’ll be fun!”

“No, it’ll be stupid.”

“Both of those things can be true.” Sasha tugged at the front of Rhys’ vest, a wheedling smile on her lips, her eyes overlarge and pleading. It was not her most believable performance, it had to be said.

Still kind of did the trick, though. Damn her.

“Did you see the reviews?” he asked, exasperated, while Sasha’s begging bumped their hips together. “Did you see how many stars it has? _Half_. One half. Zero point five. Out of five. I didn’t even know you could get less than one star.” 

“Uh, _yeah_ , that’s what makes it such a legend,” said Sasha, rolling her eyes like he’d forced her to state the obvious. “You’re not even a little bit curious what a half-star movie is like?”

“No. I have better ways to spend my free time, like—literally anything else.”

“Yeah, you and Vaughn seeing how many pencils you can fit in your mouths is _definitely_ more productive than watching a movie with your sexy girlfriend.”

“That was for science,” he huffed. “There was a contest. And we’re not talking about ‘watching a movie’, we’re talking about watching _the worst_ movie. About a zombie clown. With a hook hand. That eats people.” 

“I don’t think it’s his hook hand that eats people,” Sasha remarked mildly, before trailing her fingers down to pull at his belt buckle. “I’d make it up to you,” she offered, her expression suddenly coy.

Rhys raised an eyebrow. “Really? You’re so desperate to see the clown movie you wanna trade it for sex?”

Sasha mulled it over for a second, and then smirked. “Are you saying I’d have to be desperate to have sex with you?”

Rhys titled his face to the ceiling and groaned.

“I don’t know why you’re being so stubborn about this,” Sasha continued, “it’s really not—” She broke off, and her eyes widened, twinkling with mirth. “Hold on. Babe. Are you _scared_?”

“What?” Rhys blew a long breath between his lips and shook his head so Sasha would know precisely how ludicrous that suggestion was. “Ha ha, uh, yeah, scared, maybe, of how many IQ points I’ll lose watching this terrible movie.”

Sasha’s grin stretched across her whole face. “Cause I won’t make you watch if you’re scared.”

“I’m not _scared_.”

“It’s okay if you are,” she said, cloyingly sweet.

Rhys scowled. “Sasha—”

“I wouldn’t want you having nightmares.” Her innocent look was unconvincing. “About hook hand clowns.”

“I would not have nightmares—”

“We can watch something nice instead. Like a romcom, or something animated, or—”

“All right, that’s it!” said Rhys, pulling out of Sasha’s grip to wave a finger in her face. “We are watching the stupid clown movie, you will see what a boring waste of time this was—”

“—and how un-scared you are,” she added unhelpfully.

“—and then I am choosing date night for, like, a month. Two months.”

Sasha beamed triumphantly. “Deal.”

—

The stupid clown movie was astronomically bad.

Captivatingly so, really.

The script left lots to be desired, as did the acting, the score, and most of the sets. The only aspect of the production that outstripped the average film student’s freshman year project was the gore and its attendant effects. In this regard and nothing else, the film spared no expense. 

It was disgusting. What disturbed Rhys most of all was that he’d now been witness to enough real-life gore to know exactly how lifelike the oozing blood and snapping tendons were. 

His stomach didn’t appreciate the attention to detail. Queasy, he left his snack uneaten.

Sprawled across the other end of the sofa, Sasha finished an enormous bowl of popcorn on her own. 

A deal was a deal, though. Rhys was a man of his word—and a man looking forward to two months of planning control—and so he watched, attentive, as the zombie-hook-clown ripped skin from flesh and chased down a gaggle of young people in punishment for the hubris of renting a lake house.

Legs tucked up underneath him, Rhys rested his chin in his hand as the actress on screen panted for breath, oblivious to the fatal hook loomed above her, inching ominously closer…

Out of nowhere, something clamped down on Rhys’ left shoulder. 

“ _Aaaaugh!_ ” 

He bolted out of his seat with a yell, untouched bowl popcorn tumbling to the ground. Heart pounding under the influence of the impromptu adrenaline rush, Rhys looked first at his shoulder, then the popcorn, and finally to his traitorous girlfriend. 

Sasha exploded into hysterics.

“God _damnit_ , Sasha,” he scolded, hands on his hips. 

“Oh my— _God_ —you—you—” she wheezed, clutching her stomach and rolling back and forth on the sofa as she laughed. “That was— _amazing_ —your _face_ —”

Rhys folded his arms and glared.

“Your face,” continued Sasha, tears leaking from the corners of her eyes, “was like—like—”

Either she couldn’t find the words, or couldn’t vocalize them between her giggles. She gave up, surrendering to the laughter and burying her head in her hands.

“That was not fair,” muttered Rhys mutinously. “That’s not—that doesn’t—I wasn’t—”

“Oh my God,” Sasha repeated, wiping her eyes. “I wish I had a camera. I could see you sitting there, all tensed and quiet and—and—”

“ _I wasn’t scared_ ,” Rhys snapped, feeling like he was talking to a wall, and also like he had a lot of popcorn to sweep up. “You startled me. It’s totally different. It’s not because I was—”

“—scared by a stupid clown movie with a half-star rating?” Sasha supplied. 

Rhys only glowered. 

With the last of her tears wiped away and her giggles subsiding, Sasha sat up properly. “Sorry, babe,” she said, the barest sliver of guilt cracking through her amusement. “I couldn’t help it. It was…” She stifled a giggle. “It was really funny.”

“No, it wasn’t,” Rhys insisted, aware now that he was pouting but unwilling to stop. “It was mean.”

“Both of those things can be true,” said Sasha, and her expression settled into something warmer. “Rhys, I'm sorry. Really. I’ll make it up to you. C’mere.”

She stretched out one arm, wiggling her fingers at him. Rhys raised a skeptical eyebrow, and she turned the movie off, beckoning again to the spot next to her. With a put-upon sigh, Rhys climbed onto the sofa, settling into her side.

“It wasn’t the movie that scared me,” he muttered, nuzzling into her chest as she wrapped an arm around him. “The movie was stupid. You just—you startled me, is all.”

“Uh-huh,” Sasha agreed, although he doubted her sincerity. She pressed a kiss to his forehead and let her free hand wander up his chest to start undoing the buttons of his shirt. “It’s okay, Rhys. I promise to protect you from the scary zombie clown.”

—

Rhys awoke in the middle of the night that evening, blinking into the darkness. His ECHOeye helpfully informed him it was an absolutely stupid time of day to be awake, and he moaned quietly, rubbing his face with his hand. Something stirred behind him.

“Rhys?” came Sasha’s voice, barely above a whisper. “Rhys, are you awake?”

“That’s debatable,” he mumbled, but he rolled over to face her anyway, trying to make out her features in the dim light. “What’s up?”

“Oh. Good.” Though it was difficult to see her, she looked more alert than he felt. “I can’t sleep.”

“Why? What’s wrong?” Instinctively, his hand fumbled for the blankets, trying to establish if they were evenly distributed or if he’d accidentally commandeered all of them as he was wont to do. “Did I do something?”

There was a second’s hesitation. “No…”

Sluggish with sleep in the middle of the night, Rhys’ brain took longer than it otherwise might’ve to fit the pieces together. Then his jaw dropped.

“Sasha,” he asked slowly, savouring every syllable, “are you _having nightmares_?”

Sasha didn’t answer immediately. 

“Because of the clown movie?” he prompted. “The stupid half-star clown movie?”

Again, no answer. Instead she lurched forward, burying her head in his chest and slipping her arms around his waist. 

“Shut up,” she whined, muffled into his skin.

A joyful, disbelieving laugh escaped him. “Oh my God.”

“Still shut up,” said Sasha. 

“This... is the greatest thing that’s ever happened to me,” Rhys announced. “This is the best moment of my life.” 

Sasha didn’t share in his delight. “Breathe a word to anyone and I’ll kill you,” she hissed—strong words, for someone currently attempting to burrow into him in fear. 

Pulling her close, Rhys swallowed a laugh and settled for smiling in the dark instead. To Sasha’s credit, she’d been right—it had been a more enjoyable night than he’d expected. He ran a hand up and down her spine, relishing in the warmth of her skin against his. 

“Both of those things can be true,” he said.


End file.
